“Naturally,” I admitted.

“With a list of the places to be fortified, eh?  The positions to be held and the general distribution of troops?  No doubt, too, you have gone into the railway and commissariat arrangements?”

“All these details,” I assented, “have gone through my hands.”

He dabbed his forehead with a corner of his handkerchief.  There was a streak of purple colour in his checks.  He kept his bloodshot eyes fixed upon me.

“I will tell you something, Guy,” he said, “which will astonish you.  You realize for yourself, of course, that such details as you have spoken of can never be kept altogether secret?  There are always leakages, sometimes very considerable leakages.  Yes, Guy,” he added, “there are people, friends of mine in Paris, who are willing to pay a very large sum of money—­such a large sum of money that it is worth dividing, Guy—­for just a bare outline of the whole scheme.  Foolish!  Of course it is foolish.  But with them money is no object.  They think they are getting value for it.  Absurd!  But, Guy, what should you say to five thousand pounds?”

“It is a large sum,” I answered.

He plucked me by the sleeve.  His eyes were hungering already for the gold.

“We can get it,” he whispered hoarsely.  “No trouble to you—­no risk.  I can make all the arrangements.  You have only to hand me the documents.”

“I must think it over,” I said.

He leaned back in his chair.

“Why?” he asked.  “What need is there to hesitate?  The chance may slip by.  There are many others on the look out.”

“There is no one outside the Military Board save myself who could give these particulars,” I said slowly.

“But my friends,” he said sharply.  “Theirs is a foolish offer.  They may change their minds.  Guy, my boy, I know the world well.  Let me give you a word of advice.  When a good thing turns up, don’t play with it.  The men who decide quickly are the men who do things.”

I thrust my hand into my breast-pocket and drew out a roll of papers.

“Supposing I have already decided,” I said.

His eyes gleamed with excitement.  He almost snatched at the papers, but I held them out of his reach.  Then with a sharp little cry the woman stood suddenly between us.  There was a look almost of horror on her pale strained face, as she held out her hand as though to push me away.

“Guy, are you mad?” she cried.

The veins stood out upon my father’s forehead.  He regarded her with mingled anger and surprise.

“What do you mean, Maud?” he exclaimed.  “How dare you interfere?  Guy, give me the papers.”

“He shall not!” she exclaimed fiercely.  “Guy, have you lost your senses?  Do you want to ruin your whole life?”

“Do you mean,” I asked incredulously, “that you do not wish me to join you?”

“Join us!  For Heaven’s sake, no!” she answered fiercely.  “Look at your father, an outcast all his life.  Do you want to become like him?  Do you want to turn the other way whenever you meet an Englishman, to skulk all your days in hiding, to be the scorn even of the men who employ you?  Guy, I would sooner see you dead than part with those papers.”